


Morning Confessions (or, Waking Up Next to An Angel)

by expectingtofly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Canon Universe, Castiel Watches Over Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, sometime in season 4 i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25175605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/expectingtofly/pseuds/expectingtofly
Summary: Dean woke first in a haze of warmth and contentment, then in a slow realization of where he was and who he was with. Opening his eyes, he looked at the angel pressed up against him. Castiel’s head was half-buried in the sheets, his arm wrapped around Dean’s waist, and the sight caused a warmth in Dean's chest, an instinct to pull Castiel closer.Along with the instinct, however, came a flush of guilt at how much he enjoyed these quiet moments, enjoyed them as much as the flurry of kisses and clutches and gasps that preceded them.“We can’t do this again,” he’d said two months ago, the morning after their first night together. After their second, he’d amended the statement: “This doesn’t mean anything, alright? We can hook up every once in a while, but that’s it. That’s all this is.” Castiel had nodded and that was the last they spoke of it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 131





	Morning Confessions (or, Waking Up Next to An Angel)

Dean woke first in a haze of warmth and contentment, then in a slow realization of where he was and who he was with. Opening his eyes, he looked at the angel pressed up against him. Castiel’s head was half-buried in the sheets, his arm wrapped around Dean’s waist, and the sight caused a warmth in Dean's chest, an instinct to pull Castiel closer.

Along with the instinct, however, came a flush of guilt at how much he enjoyed these quiet moments, enjoyed them as much as the flurry of kisses and clutches and gasps that preceded them.

“We can’t do this again,” he’d said two months ago, the morning after their first night together. After their second, he’d amended the statement: “This doesn’t mean anything, alright? We can hook up every once in a while, but that’s it. That’s all this is.” Castiel had nodded and that was the last they spoke of it.

Castiel’s eyes were closed in faux sleep; he always stayed the whole night—a fact which created a mixture of emotions in Dean, none of them in keeping with the cool, unattached manner he tried so hard to maintain around Castiel. He’d even mentioned it, told Castiel, “You don’t sleep, you don’t have to lie here all night.” 

Seeming to blush—though Dean doubted angels could be embarrassed—Castiel had said, “I don’t mind. I want to watch over you.” 

And Dean didn’t want to admit how much he enjoyed the warmth of Castiel’s body against his all night, how much he relished waking up to the angel still next to him.

In the quiet of this morning, before he rose and left the motel room, spent the day trying to pretend nothing had happened between them, Dean studied Castiel: his soft, dark eyelashes, the curl of hair around the curve of his ear. The eyelashes fluttered, then blue eyes gazed up at him. 

Dean’s breath hitched and he hastily looked away. He stared up at the ceiling, pretending to be engrossed by the dark water stain above their heads. 

_Whoosh_ _._

Dean startled at the sudden absence of the heat of Castiel’s body against his. He looked to see the blankets settling down in the spot where Castiel lay a moment ago.

 _Damn flighty angels_ , Dean thought. Then the sound of water running made him realize the bathroom door was closed, light coming through the gap at the bottom. Frowning, he sat up to get out of bed, then swore. Castiel stood by the bed in his way, naked. 

That sight, as always, was enough to render Dean speechless for a long second. He glanced back at the bathroom, the door now open and the light off, and back at Castiel. Only Castiel wasn’t standing in the same spot anymore. 

The sound of wings made him turn to see Castiel standing at the foot of the bed, now almost fully dressed, pulling on his trench coat.

“What the fuck?” Dean managed. 

“I, umm,” Castiel tapped his fingers on the bedspread, then pulled his hand away and smiled at Dean. “Do you want food? I can get you breakfast.” With another whoosh, he was gone, leaving Dean staring at the opposite wall.

Then Castiel was dropping a takeout bag on the table with a thump. Dean blinked and Castiel was standing by the bed again saying, “I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I grabbed five different varieties of bagels and—”

“Woah, woah, Cas.” Dean grabbed his arm. “You’re giving me whiplash. What the hell’s going on? Why’re you flying around everywhere?”

“I, um... I suppose I’m… nervous.”

“Nervous?” He didn’t know Castiel, “stoic angel of the Lord,” could get nervous. “And your wings are going haywire?”

“They’re not haywire,” Castiel replied, sounding annoyed. He straightened his shoulders. “I need to tell you something.”

Dean took a deep breath. In his line of business, that was never a good thing to hear. Angel or demon problems? A new apocalypse? Steadying himself for the inevitably bad news, he said, “Alright. What?”

Another whoosh, and Castiel was sitting on the bed next to him. “Fuck! Cas!” Dean exclaimed, nearly falling out of bed. Castiel grabbed his arm to steady him. “You wanna give me a warning next time?” 

“Sorry."

Dean huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Castiel traced the floral pattern on the comforter. The serious furrow in his brows should’ve made Dean nervous, but he found himself studying Castiel’s profile instead. His jawline, his dark hair tousled from all his flying around, probably. He had the sudden urge to touch Castiel’s face, the nape of his neck, to run his fingers through Castiel’s hair, but he kept his arms crossed and studied the comforter himself.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Castiel said quietly and Dean’s heart sunk. He had known this shaky thing between him and Castiel couldn’t last. Castiel was an angel; he had the world at his fingertips. Why would he ever be content with Dean? 

Castiel continued, “I think this, our sexual relations, means more to me than it does to you.” 

It took a few seconds for those unexpected words to register. Dean blinked. So... Castiel had caught feelings. Another apocalypse seemed easier to deal with than the way that realization made him feel.

In a rush, Castiel touched his arm and angled his body to look at him. “I know that wasn’t part of our agreement. You said no strings attached. And I thought I could do that, and if not, I could hide my true feelings, but it seems I can’t, after all. I thought… I thought you should know.” He dropped his hands into his lap and Dean’s heart thumped in his chest. He wondered if Castiel could hear it.

“You want more,” he said slowly. “Like a relationship.” 

Castiel nodded sadly.

“Maybe,” Dean started, then stopped. He didn’t know how he planned on ending that sentence. But the look Castiel turned on him, the wide hope in his eyes, urged him to say what had been building up in him since the first time he woke up next to Castiel. “Maybe we can have more than just..." He gestured to the crappy motel room, themselves, trying to encompass the transience of their hook ups. “This,” he finished lamely.

“Really?” Castiel asked, studying him. “You want that?”

 _More than anything._ To hold Castiel's hand, to feel his arms around him every night, to wake up to him every morning. Everything he wanted to say got caught in his throat; the words seemed too heavy, too great to say aloud. 

“Yeah, yeah, I do," he managed.

A smile spread on Castiel’s face and Dean hastened to add, “But no one can know, alright? I mean, maybe Sam can know, but no one else.” No, that wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted: to call Castiel his, to let everyone know this angel had chosen him. “This can’t be public knowledge. Dean Winchester doesn’t date, much less have a boyfriend.”

“I’m your boyfriend now?” The excitement in Castiel’s voice made Dean’s heart jump.

“Oh, um.” He cleared his throat. “Do you want to be?”

"Yes." Castiel took Dean's hand in his own and held his gaze, his eyes serious. "I would like that very much.” 

"I would like that very much too," Dean echoed since words were still escaping him, then Castiel leaned forward and kissed him, and there was that warmth again filling Dean's chest, perfect comfort and ease overwhelming him. He lifted a hand to Castiel's face, hoped he could press onto Castiel's lips everything he couldn't put into words.

When they slowly pulled away, Dean was breathless and Castiel was smiling at him. Nestling closer, Castiel leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder. It didn’t make sense, Dean thought, the way this angel felt towards him. He was half-convinced this sudden, new relationship was all a dream. But even if it was, even if he did suddenly wake, he knew he’d wake to Castiel watching over him.

The thought made him smile and, looking down at their hands, he intertwined his fingers with Castiel’s. The happy sigh Castiel made said it all.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! drop a comment and let me know what you thought :)
> 
> and you can check out my tumblr [here](https://expectingtofly.tumblr.com/)


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